


melody of the widow's heart

by crassness



Category: Naruto, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Curses, Dark Past, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, POV First Person, Post-Third Shinobi War, Slow Burn, Smut, Third Shinobi War, still in work!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 12,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crassness/pseuds/crassness
Summary: Perhaps it was his eyes; the sorrowful, longing eyes that captured the same emotions as mine. Perhaps that was what enraptured me.
Relationships: Sasori (Naruto)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Naruto Fanfictions





	1. prologue: the workings of pain & art

Ah, yes. Apathetic. That was what they called me.

Admittedly, there was no need for genuine emotion anymore. Nobody deserved my vulnerability, not after him. The shinobi world did not require such. 

What an ironic situation. No one could imagine me to be someone with so much passion for another. What lacked in explicit, physical emotion was made up for in the music that I created. The music that manipulated: controlled, and inspired, just as I was at one time.

'But, why would you want the world to endure such pain?' you may ask. The answer is simple; I wanted to take what the world took from me. Living in a society like so, it came with no surprise that there were those who exceeded typical human ability. There were those refined only to the finest points and bound to the morals of their ninja way. 

"Death is not something to dwell on,” I was told, blankly staring into the rocks damaged by the battle of such shinobi. It was a true statement, yes. Death was most certainly a common occurrence in this line of duty. Although it seemed, almost at an instant, life was instead taken from me. Not in a literal sense, of course, but that moment truly was the last time that I had ever  _ felt _ alive.

Life is a beautiful thing. A masterpiece, even. Art. Its eternality makes it such, for even after it ends, your memories lie with others. In a way, you live on just as he does. Ending a masterpiece before finishing was an unforgivable crime. The world needed to pay for doing so.


	2. flee

My history begins in a small shinobi village just north of the Land of Fire. From my early childhood, various elders informed me that I possessed a unique type of energy, that I wielded a power unknown to any of the Kage. I was not a jinchūriki, but one who wielded an inhuman sort of force equal to one. Like so, my exceptional power was sealed and contained for many years of my life.

I don’t remember much of the sealing process. However, I do recall that it was after an incident at the small training academy that the village ran. I was only around four or five. My mother had given me a plastic ocarina, so I instinctively ran to the academy to show it off, as any young child would. Placing my lips on the mouthpiece, I began to focus my chakra into my air as I sounded. My vision went dark, and I had seemingly lost control over my own fingers. It felt as though I had fallen asleep. I awoke with searing pain in both of my arms, the higher-ups of the village looking down on me as I laid in the hospital bed. The elders even refused to look me in the eyes as I repeatedly asked questions. I decided to ignore the pain, shoving it off as an injury from passing out.

I excelled far past my peers and advanced quickly in the academy. My specialty included using different instruments to release and control chakra. I manipulated beasts and clones alike and used my music to enhance my teammate’s abilities, weakening my enemy. My sound could communicate to others of the opponent’s next move as I watched from afar, even possessing the ability to influence emotions. Highly respected among the land, I was well known locally and from afar. I was unbeatable, as far as my young mind knew.

The day arrived when war flooded the village. The Third Great Ninja War, they would call it. The land fell to a plague of gangs and yakuza groups. As far as I know, my clan, the Aika, were on the front lines to defend our small village from overpowering neighboring lands. Seeing as though we were one of the more powerful clans, it was no surprise that the higher-ups and elders chose my family to be the primary defenders. The casualties took everything from the clan, leaving us with fewer members than expected. I was young, just starting the academy when I learned about the war’s effect on our family. I lost the ones closest to me. It gave answers to the family members I never saw again. War and conflict would come to deliver dread and trauma in the coming years. Hushed voices and covered mouths gave way to rumors that a force sought after my power.

“Mom?” I called entering my home after a long day’s practice with my friends at the training center. The house was silent; I couldn’t even sense anyone’s presence. I made my way into the back courtyard. There, my father stood with a knife joined with my mother’s throat. 

“Come with me, (Y/n),” he spoke in a monotone voice. He seemed deranged like something had traumatized him just before. A simple statement, indeed, but to who was he escorting me? Considering the circumstances of my power as a target, I backed away slowly. 

“Run! Leave now!” mother yelled, tears staining her cheeks. 

In shock and confusion, I chucked a kunai at my father’s hand to release the knife. In reply to my incompliance, my father drew his arm. The blade sliced my mother’s throat with no remorse for the woman he had married. I felt a searing pain in my head as my hands shook to hold it. My arms ached as the burning sensation traveled from my lower arm to my shoulder. Unimaginable pain pulsed through my body as I stared at the cold concrete ground. A trembling hand pulled my flute out from the backpack I’d been carrying and started a somber, minor-keyed melody. I looked up at my father, who had collapsed, unable to breathe. As I continued the piece, his eyes connected with mine as his very existence withered away. I had never seen such power from myself before. Had the seal weakened?

I was devastated. In only a short amount of time, I had committed a top-level crime and had killed off the last of the Aika clan. I had to leave the village. I needed to save myself from that wretched war and its effects. The war that split apart and killed my family. Packing my belongings into one single backpack, I set off. I turned my back to the village that had failed to protect my clan and me. At only seven years of age, I had become an orphaned, rogue ninja. I was on the run for my safety that others had failed to protect. It was a sad thing, I thought. How could a village, consisting of war veterans and powerful shinobi, fail to protect the safety of a small child? How could they allow her own family to turn on her? 

“A selfish thing, this village,” I muttered as I went on my way, already miles away from the gates. 


	3. drifting to destiny

I wandered for what seemed like months, only stopping at small villages for food and housing for the night. Life as a lost kunoichi was difficult, especially with my age. “Where are your parents, little girl?”, I was often asked. Not long after I heard that question, I would leave the village. Questions about my origins would only raise suspicion. There was no need for that.

Before I knew it, I had wandered into the Land of Stone. There wasn’t much there besides the shinobi-rich village that I had avoided using a stolen map from one of the previous lands. I found myself walking down the main streets of a run-down village. It was most likely recovering from the war, too preoccupied to care for intruders. “Foolish town! I could’ve been a threat if I wanted to.” I spoke under my breath. 

By the looks of it, nobody had acknowledged my disappearance. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I chuckled, reminiscing on the good days of the training academy. I decided to stay awhile. “Only for a few days,” I spoke to myself as I snuggled myself into the blankets of some shabby inn. I needed a break. The next morning, I went for a walk and came across a clearing in the forest surrounding the village. 

A perfect place for some long-needed training! I sat down on a rock nearby and pulled out my flute. Closing my eyes, collecting chakra in my core, and gracefully moving my fingers in intricate patterns that not even a skilled musical ninja could interpret, I began to sound. Feeling small droplets of rainfall on my arm, I immediately relaxed. I was at peace with the rain. I loved the feeling of raindrops on my body; it reminded me about times of the past where my mother and I would dance out in the thunderstorms. 

To me, the rain was a happy memory.

Creating music was the only thing keeping me sane at that point. In the middle of improvising a classic piece, I thought of an idea. I would settle in the Sand Village’s Sunagakure. “Surely they wouldn’t know of my name there. That’s thousands of miles away from that piece of shit village.” I set up a plan to pose as a wandering orphan whose parents were killed in the war. Life as a rogue ninja would be a thing of the past.

And so I was off, leaving the wandering life of a lost kunoichi. Who would I meet? What friends would I make? Who would I live with? “I guess I’ll figure it out when I get there,” I spoke to myself. 


	4. arrival to destiny

I had arrived in Suna just a few weeks later. Passing the Great Cliffs, I was informed to state my business there. At last, I could finally reveal my long-awaited story of a tragic orphan whose parents were lost to the horrors of the ongoing war. At first, I doubted that they’d let me in, so I mentioned that I had completed my academy training with my old village before it was taken over by surrounding countries. Seeing the border guards’ face change from a stern, cold look to one full of hope and sincerity relieved my fears of denial. I entered with ease with orders to report to the Kazekage.

Arriving at the Kazekage’s office, I walked in awe at the various buildings made of reinforced sand. Suna was absolutely fascinating to me. Lord Kazekage was already expecting me. 

“(Y/N)... That is your name, correct?” He spoke, holding a clipboard of my profile. My eyes widened. Had he known of my crimes? 

“I do not worry about your past. I understand your reasoning for the violence you endured.” The Lord said as my eyes locked with his.

“Well, that’s relieving,” I spoke proudly. “I assume I’m here to discuss my ranking and skills?”

“Yes and no,” he looked down. “I know about your skills. They’re exceptional, but I see no equivalent of a chunin exam anywhere. I’m afraid your rank will be genin for now until the exam comes around.”

“I understand.”

“Though your living situation is much more important to me. I’ve contacted a woman who may be interested in taking you in. She fosters another orphan. I think you two would mix well.”

“W-What? What do you mean by-” I blushed as he laughed aloud, interrupted by the door opening. In came an older woman perhaps in her late 40’s.

“Ah! Chiyo! Meet (Y/N).” He smiled, gesturing towards me.

“What a beautiful young lady!” A sincere smile made its way across her face. Something about her made me feel warm inside, like that of my mother. “I can’t wait to introduce you to my Sasori. I hope you can cheer him up a bit.”

“I’ll try my best,” I informed her, returning the smile and placed my hands on my backpack straps.

Just like that, we made our way to her residence. Walking in, I smelt the strong scent of freshly cut wood. I couldn’t help but notice the puppets lining some of the walls.

“That is our art, dear. We’re puppet specialists.” The lady spoke as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

She led me into my bedroom, a barren room with nothing but a light beige bed and dresser.

“This will be your room. The workshop is down the hall. Sasori’s room is just across from yours. You’ll be able to find him in either.” She smiled.

“Thank you, Chiyo.” I smiled back. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“It’s not a problem, dear.” She turned and left the room.

Unpacking my small amount of clothes and gear, I began to set up my instruments in a line. My bowed mandolin to the left, ocarinas followed with the flute end. Not long after getting myself settled in, I realized that Lady Chiyo forgot to tell me where the bathroom was. I wandered the entire house for her, unable to find anyone.

“I guess I’ll just ask Sasori.” I shrugged.

I made my way to the workshop, stopping in front of the door. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of what another person would think of me. Would he be annoyed? I would hate to intrude on something important. I stood in place for a minute, thinking of all the possible outcomes.

“Come in.” A voice spoke.

I went stiff. For how long did he sense my presence? His sensory was definitely more advanced than mine. I opened the door to reveal myself.

For the first time in my life, my heart fluttered.

A redhead that looked around my age sat at a table, hands wrapped around a wooden arm. His brown eyes stared at me. It was almost like he could read my emotions. ‘This must be Sasori,’ I thought.

“I was wondering if you knew where the bathroom was,” I trailed off, eyes glued to his. It seemed like there was still a small spark of emotion in those eyes of his. He was exactly like me. Eyes devoid of emotion. All but a small amount of humanity that clung to us like it was all it had.

“And your name is?..” He narrowed his eyes.

“(Y/N). Your grandm-”

“Second door on your side of the hall. I already know what my grandmother has done for you.” He interrupted, returning to his work.

“Thank you, Sasori,” I spoke, closing the door behind me as I walked out. 

I held no grudge against him for his interruption. I knew the pain of losing parents at such a young age. I did not even dare to compare my pain to his. Trauma is not comparable, nor should it be a competition. 

I just hoped that I could make it just a bit more bearable for the two of us, having both lost someone dear to us. 


	5. his disposition

The next few months with Sasori came to have some of the most challenging situations I had ever experienced. In a way, we were so alike yet so different. He acted so nonchalantly and unenthusiastic towards everyone, almost as if he built up a wall around his heart day by day. At that time, I would’ve described him as a door that said: “pull.” I kept pushing him; I pushed him to open up to me, to finally let me in. No matter how hard I pushed he never let me in. An ignorant child, I was. I never considered reading the sign and figuring out how to actually open him until he had come to me personally. I was only seven at the time, after all.

Not long after getting comfortable in the village, I was placed in a genin team with Sasori per the Kazekage’s specific request, of course. Fortunately, I had arrived in the village just in time to attend the chunin exams with Sasori. We passed with flying colors. Exerting a low spinning kick and finishing my opponent with Grange, chakra draining music, I glanced back at Sasori in the audience. Locking eyes with him for what seemed like the millionth time, I noticed that the corners of his lips were tugging to a smile. For the first time, I saw a spark in the humanity that resided deep in his eyes. 

I sat with my legs dangling over a cliff with the most magnificent display of Suna. Silence comforted me as I trained. I preferred to train alone since I had not yet developed a way to train with anyone else from the village. I usually practiced alone until sundown or until it began to rain. But before I knew it, I felt a presence behind me. How could I have been so stupid to lose focus in the view? That would have been a fatal mistake on the battlefield, I thought to myself.

“I sensed I would find you here.” I heard a voice speak. I turned around to face Sasori standing over me, who immediately broke eye contact and looked to the village.

“It really is a wonderful view.” He spoke. Replying with a hum, I patted the ground next to me. I felt warmth in my body as he accepted my offer to sit down.

“Why are you here, Sasori? Shouldn’t you be working on your puppets?” I asked.

“I’ve been distracted,” he confessed, looking away.

“Why exactly did you come to Suna of all places? It’s not really the ideal place to reside in the middle of a war, you know. You’re an amazing ninja, so why here?” He looked at me, hands on his knees.

Blushing at his compliment, I thought for a minute. I decided that it would be best to tell him the truth. He would sense my lying anyways. He was good at that.

“I left my village after my father had turned against me. I remember him saying something along the words of escorting me someplace to the enemy, perhaps. There were a lot of neighboring villages turning on us for our nin, seeing as though we held my clan, the Aika. We possess a kind of kekkei genkai in which a powerful user is born with an image of a white snake somewhere on their body. They hold unimaginable power, although I never got an explanation of it. I feel that my father was informed to hand me over to them, which in turn they would make peace with the village.” I spoke as I looked down and fiddled with the wooden ocarina that rested in my lap.

“I see.” he muttered. I could sense a bit of sympathy in the tone of his voice. I was getting fairly good at reading his emotions.

“Not long after, he held my mother hostage to threaten me into handing myself over. I outright refused and tried to stop him. I tried Sasori.” I furrowed my brows, not noticing the tears running down my cheeks.

He paused for a minute, perhaps to think of the next thing to say.

“There is no way that you can fully express the feeling of losing your parents, (Y/N). All we can do is deal with the pain as best we can in hopes that we receive support from something in return, whether it be a person or a passion of ours.” He voiced. 

From where I sat, I could see the quiver in his eyes. After months of pulling at a locked door, it finally opened. I wrapped my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. As he loosened up to the sudden contact, I felt him place a hand on my head. I had finally opened the entrance between two wall-encased hearts. We basked in the long-needed, yet avoided human affection. Pulling away, I started to pull up my shirt.

“H-hey! What are you doing?!” He exclaimed as his face flushed red.

“Calm down, pervert. I want to show you the white snake.” I responded.

Just under my chest displayed a pure white snake in a figure-8 position.

“Hmm... The white snake; I’ve read something about that in the academy. Perhaps information about it would be in the library. Would you like to come with me?” he asked.

I nodded in agreement.

We got up and headed towards the library. Night had already fallen and it was past curfew, but Lady Chiyo was away doing whatever old ladies did in their spare time after dark. Buildings were usually locked after dark, so we climbed to the roof. Opening a latch, he held my hand to help me down into the dark library and soon followed after. We approached a section on myths and legends.

“Is this a joke, Sasori? Myths?” I asked, feeling a bit offended.

“Hold on... Ah, this is it.” He whispered, pulling out a dusty book from the shelf.

‘Benzaiten: Legend, Legacy, and Jutsu’ it read. Opening the cover revealed a beautiful woman playing a mandolin with a white snake accompanying her. Looking at her was like looking at the embodiment of love, wisdom, and talent all in one. Reading into the book would further describe her jutsu and her story with the sun goddess, Amaterasu. The legend depicted in the story was that Benzaiten was the first to use and manipulate chakra in physical form. Her use of chakra meant that all musicians were the first to use chakra to express their feelings through their sound, resulting in the influence of their emotions to their audience. The use of chakra to harm would be credited to the Indra, son of the Sage. The Jutsu described could only be done by one who possessed the white snake. The chosen one would be known as the embodiment of Benzaiten herself. 

Sasori, who was reading along with me, displayed the same look of shock as I did. A flicker of his eyes displayed a quick look of derangement as if a thought had flashed through his mind and left as quickly as it came. 

Perhaps I could’ve atoned for the pain I had caused to others over the years of being a missing-nin. Just perhaps. Finding out about how much power I possessed granted me the first feeling of sympathy. I wanted to defend the village that saved me from life as a rogue ninja. 

Something had finally become precious to me.


	6. acceptance

A gentle morning had come. In the midst of one of the greatest wars in our lifetime, the still mornings brought the tenderness that managed to keep us going. To some, it was the only reason to keep fighting. The desperation to see the next sunrise gave a purpose to fight a seemingly endless war.

It had been around 6 years since we had discovered the power of Bentaizen within me. Friends and comrades had come and gone. One stood out in particular, a fellow named Komushi. I was not around to see his friendship with Sasori grow much, but I do recall the day that Sasori had finally made his long researched human-puppet jutsu a reality. I remember the internal panic that had set in when he had found out about the accident. As border patrol, Sasori had no choice but to have at least some human interaction. As a person who mostly kept to himself, growing close with him over the years had made me see that he longed for touch more than the average person. Komushi, like I, had become another resource for the warmth he was denied before we met. Seeing him grow distant to others and accepting the death of his parents had done a great deal of damage to him, mentally. Losing Komushi was the breaking point. I did not resent him for turning Kumoshi into a puppet because, like no one else, I understood Sasori’s mind to every extent. Ridding himself of typical emotions such as grief allowed him to test out his transfer technique. After all, Kumoshi’s mother had practically begged him to save him even after telling her that he couldn’t. Who was he to deny her of her son? He did as she asked and remade Kumoshi. He would’ve wanted it, anyways. Kumoshi was a curious fellow, always butting in on his research and herbs. Being a ground-breaking experiment would have meant everything to him. There was no room for grief in lives like ours. Both busy and dedicated to our own lives and passions, sadness would only get in the way. I had become the same way.

I was 13 years old, Sasori one year my senior. We had been dispatched to the most enemy-heavy territory on the front lines. We were Suna’s last hope. Training with Sasori had done us both well. We had developed hundreds of combinations together using my power of music and his puppets. What can you expect from two geniuses? Direct contact with enemies was certainly not my strength, so Sasori would attack while they were in a trance as I played. By the time of our dispatch, I had already developed all of Benzaiten’s jutsu. Summoning Benzaiten herself would demand a great deal of chakra, so I refrained from doing so as much. Hearing her sound would stop enemies in their tracks, immediately erasing them from the world. My method of battle was clean and precise, Sasori’s not so much. 

The blood spilled from our combinations of attacks would earn him fame. “Sasori of the Red Sand” they would call him. I gained fame from my hundreds of compositions after the war. My works were used by Suna’s musicians all around. I even got to form my own music faction within the academy as I trainined groups of musically talented nin. Sasori continued his career as a medical ninja. We remained close by spending time with each other at the end of every day. Coming home, we would talk about our days respectively as I watched him tinker in his workshop. Even after the trauma of war and stress, I still saw the warmth in his eyes every time he looked at me. I was the only one to ever see him like that. 

Over time I accepted my growing feelings for him, even as I struggled to push them away. I never acted on them. I was never afraid of death or even what the average person would fear. My biggest fear was losing Sasori. The risk of him not returning my feelings proved to be too great. 

Perhaps that's what hurt the most. Perhaps that is my biggest regret.

  
  



	7. anew

“And you’re completely sure about this, Sasori?” I questioned.

“You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like. I won’t force you to come along.” He answered.

It happened in the middle of the night. Performing the familiar ritual of packing my belongings into my backpack had come once again.

Seeing Sasori crack under the stress of being a top percentile medical-nin, along with being a puppet manufacturer in high demand, was painful to me. Unwinding at the end of one very hectic day, I had jokingly suggested that we run away and start a new life someplace away from the pressures of our responsibilities. Somewhere inside myself, I knew that was what I wanted, but I did not expect Sasori to agree with me. Lady Chiyo had been gone for much longer than usual, most likely busy with advisory affairs. Staring up at the stars, Sasori shot up after my suggestion. He grabbed both of my hands and praised me for my geniusness.

Finishing with my pack, I sat on Sasori’s bed as I looked at my Suna headband. I was about to betray a village that was once so precious to me. Suna’s harsh training had taken a toll on both Sasori and I. Sure, we were both devoid of most emotions, but we were still human at the very least. The village’s inconsideration for basic empathy had conditioned us to be Suna’s fighting machines. The village that once welcomed me with open arms had become a stranger.

His larger frame had made its way beside me. Looking over to him, I noticed that he had laid out his headband in his lap along with a kunai in his right hand. I failed to find any other emotion but resentment in his eyes. The sound of scraping metal filled the room as the tip of the blade formed a slash over the village’s engraved symbol. I reluctantly handed him mine as he flashed me a look of reassurance.

We set off in the delicate, silent night. The village was still and quiet as we made our way out. I snaked my right arm around his left bicep and placed my left hand at the same spot; it was common practice for us. The feeling of safety that came along with it was addicting. I eventually got tired of fending for myself, and Sasori was always there to relieve me of that weight.

The crunch of the dry sand beneath our feet was the last thing Suna would ever hear from us.


	8. in the eye of his hurricane

“Like this…” He guided my hands to the puppet.

He sat behind me as he observed me getting used to his puppet. Sasori had a way of expressing his passion for the art of puppetry. Since I wasn’t around much to sit down and learn from him, I carried heavy baggages of guilt with me. As Sasori’s closest friend, I felt ashamed for not knowing anything about his art. To solve such an issue, I asked him to teach me his ways, just out of curiosity. Placing my hands on the wooden figure, I channeled my chakra to the fingertips that connected with it.

“Hey!” I shouted. Before I knew it, Sasori had yanked my hand back, revealing strings of chakra that connected my fingertips with the marionette.

“Sorry,” he smiled, “I know it’s a beginner concept, but it’s the best learning method.”  
For someone with advanced finger dexterity, I paled in comparison to Sasori’s. His puppet had moved with such grace and mobility that looked down on my own. After a half an hour of being discouraged by the concepts of strings and movement, I gave up.

“Urgh!” I grunted, throwing my hands up as I disrupted the flow of chakra stemming from my hands. The puppet fell to the ground as I sheepishly glanced at him. “I can’t do this,” I mumbled. “You make it look so easy!”

Sasori chuckled and pulled me back into an embrace. His arms snaked around my waist as I leaned back. A light blush dusted our cheeks as we locked eyes. Snapping out of it, I pulled forward and turned to face him.

“You know what?” I seized his hands, “It’s your turn to learn about my art!” He groaned as I got up and dragged him by his hands. I struggled to pull his body against the worn wood floor.

We set off for many villages. The months of constant plundering and sadism had desensitized us more than what we had already contained. I had come to feel no sympathy for anyone but Sasori. I had found peace in his violence; he had found warmth in my coldness. We had found each other amid our chaos.  
So who was I to decline the highest offer of his affection? Sure, we weren’t in an established relationship quite yet, but rejecting his proposal would devastate him. We both knew that our love for each other was eternal. To match such an everlasting love, we made our bodies eternal. Of course, I had requested to keep my lungs intact for the sake of my Jutsu. Gone were the days of being held down by a mortal body. A new chapter of life with eternal virtue would soon develop.

It had been an awful day. Just a few mornings prior, Sasori had come home beaten and battered. I quickly tended to his wounds and allowed him to rest. After purposefully annoying him with questions, I forced him to confess about his whereabouts. It made sense, of course. We were just a few miles away from the outskirts of Suna, so Sasori took the opportunity to pay a visit to the Kazekage. Infuriated with him for his imprudence, I shrugged it off and scolded him for his recklessness. Deep down, I was relieved that he had taken the victory.

Deep down, I knew that I would have torn Suna apart if Sasori had fallen to a man like the Kazekage.

The disappointing village did more harm than good. Sasori sat at the edge of a bench with his head buried in his hands. He was shaking.

“Sasori?...” I asked as I tenderly placed my hand on his shoulder. I could feel the dissatisfaction in his behavior. I sensed his mind was breaking.

Knowing that the disappointment in himself was overwhelming him, I offered Sasori a moment to be vulnerable with me. I let him shift his weight onto mine. I felt the guilt, the sorrow.

Only I could comfort the lonely, cold child that resided deep within the heart that he had barricaded so well.


	9. a criminal's blossom

Our fight was my first impression of Konan. Soon after setting off to another village in search of material, we had come across a woman in a black cloak. She offered us a new life if we agreed to join the Akatsuki: a life without worry or constant risk. Sasori, as usual, laughed it off and informed her that we could manage on our own. Knowing Sasori, his pride would’ve been too big to accept protection from another without a fight.

I chose not to release my full power during our short battle. Unlike Sasori, I had the ability to spare Konan a bit of mercy. I could sense that she had no interest in killing us and therefore posed no real threat. Besides, Sasori had taken a beating just a few days earlier and was in no position to fight. Blood coated my hands as I tended to his reopened wounds near his core. We settled on joining out of respect for Konan’s victory.

Following Konan’s lead, we entered a large, sequestered forest. She let out a small grunt as she released a genjutsu that disguised a large, seemingly run-down manor. 

“This serves as our main headquarters. Seldom the Akatsuki is together in one place, but this is where we’ll reside when we’re off-duty,” she spoke as we nodded in agreement.

Sasori’s inner excitement overwhelmed him as he advanced, leaving us behind. I chuckled as I remained at Konan’s side.

“He may seem emotionless, but any mention of other artists can get him riled up,” I mentioned to Konan.

“I see. I can arrange a single room for you two if you’d prefer it.”

“No need for that!” I blushed. “We.. aren’t exactly dating, you know?”

“Ah. I apologize,” Konan sighed. “Boys are difficult beings.”

“Well, are you involved with anyone?” I asked.

“Not exactly, no. I could tell you more about it later if we have the time.”

“Good idea,” I replied.

We headed inside and took our seats at an elegant round table. At the table sat a man around our age with spiky orange hair, a young boy with jet-black hair, and a tall fellow with a black mask. The first to speak was the man with the orange hair. Introducing himself as Pain, he welcomed us into the Akatsuki. Akatsuki's desire for a peaceful world through conflict itself is what sparked my interest. As someone who endured a great deal of pain during my youth before and after meeting Sasori, I truly believed that his solution to world peace was the only answer.

Although the tall man, Kakuzu, was silent during Pain’s introduction, the young boy, Itachi, seemed out of place. Looking into his eyes, I felt a deep sense of resentment and sorrow, like that of Sasori’s when we first left Suna. As we were dismissed, I stayed behind with Itachi.

“You don’t belong, do you?” I asked. “I can see that you’re a pacifist at heart. You mustn't put other’s well-being in front of yours. It’ll lead to your downfall.”

With that, I walked away, following Sasori out the door. 


	10. dynamic

Not long after we joined, Sasori was sent on a mission to eliminate Hidden Leaf Sannin, Orochimaru. Although I never held any personal grudge against the Leaf, I had heard from many elders that a man from the Leaf held responsibility for the death of Sasori’s parents. For that reason, Sasori possessed a deep distrust for Leaf shinobi. 

My legs bounced up and down as I sat in the main living room, waiting for Sasori’s return. All missions always posed a risk of no return, and I had trouble with risking Sasori’s life like so. I could not stomach the scenario of a member notifying me of his passing. The door creaked open to reveal Sasori’s very obviously annoyed face. A new man with a pale face and purple eye markings followed him. I walked up to Sasori, cautious of not pushing his annoyance.

“I didn’t know you were also sent on a recruiting mission,” I whispered.

“Me neither,” Sasori spoke with a foul sense of hatred in his breath. He had fabricated his bitterness with a mask of collectiveness. Drops of poison on his body had signified a fight. I refrained from asking about it, not wanting to agitate his short temper.

“Members, please welcome Orochimaru,” Pain spoke. “He is a Hidden Leaf Sannin. Expect him to live up to your expectations.”

Sasori grimaced as the other members introduced themselves, respectively. After our introduction, he pulled me aside.

“I want you to stay away from that man,” he urged.

He explained how much of a manipulative man Orochimaru was; how he had coaxed Sasori into fighting him by mentioning his knowledge of our ‘relationship’, something kept only in our private lives. I heard the uneasiness in his voice then and heard it again when it was announced that he was to be paired with Orochimaru. I assumed not to trust Orochimaru with Akatsuki information, so I kept my distance from him at all times. 

I had seen the hungry look in his eyes as he observed Itachi from a distance. I had almost predicted his every move from the second he walked past the door. So no, I was not surprised when news came that he assaulted Itachi. I was assured that everyone in the Akatsuki had known that day would eventually come. The absolute need for power in his goals had given it away. A feeling of uncertainty plagued the room every time he walked in. Nobody, to my knowledge, was comfortable with him.

From then on, I had always felt protected around Sasori. The sense of security and stability grew stronger as the months flew past. Before him, I had known only toxic, parasitic love, the kind of uncertain love that drained me until I was no more. I guess that’s why falling in love with Sasori came naturally to me. I became addicted to the vulnerability that associated itself with love.


	11. his masterpiece

Gentle pats of rain kissed my bare arms as I observed a view of the landscape from a distance. I had always loved the rain. It seemed to wash away streets dirtied with sin. It birthed and rebirthed again and again. No matter what atrocities I had contributed to during my time with the Akatsuki, the rain guaranteed a clean slate every so often. I was allowed to start anew, just as I had done with arriving in Suna, leaving it, and joining the Akatsuki. It allowed me to create lasting memories with Sasori that never seemed to depart from my mind.

The grass rustled as a presence sat next to me. I looked over to see Sasori’s dripping red hair sticking to the sides of his face. He had taken a disliking to the rain over the years, saying that it interfered with his older puppets. Despite taking great lengths to avoid it, he always seemed to make an effort to join me as I sat to enjoy the weeping sky.

I reached my hand out to squeeze the water from his hair, “You look ridiculous. Go back inside with the others. I’ll be fine out here.”

“No,” he said as he averted his eyes from mine, “I like the view up here.”

I watched as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap, something he only did when he wasn’t able to focus. “What’s on your mind, Pinocchio?” I asked.

He clenched his hands, “Don’t call me that, woman.”

“I’m kidding.” I moved closer, sitting in a crisscrossed position facing him. “Really, though. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I just can’t focus on my work at all.”

“Awww! Am I that distracting?” I teased.

“You’re a masterpiece.” he quickly let out. As he realized what he had just said, his face turned beet red. Almost immediately, he visibly forced himself to return to normal. “I’m kidding.”

I stared into his eyes, trying to figure out his intentions. In all honesty, there was no need to do such. Every detail of his actions practically spelled out, “I love you.” There was no need for words, no. Not in this context. Speaking our feelings had always been a weak point in our relationship. Reading each other’s emotions proved to be more natural. We leaned in as we caught on to each other’s conclusions.

For the first time in years, I felt butterflies in my stomach as our lips made contact. I had never felt love in my life. I didn’t know what it was like to have a childhood crush; to obsess over anything but my work. Never before had I felt another’s loving touch, and for that, his fingers burned against my wet skin as he cupped my cheek.

We pulled back, out of breath and panting. Our flushed cheeks conveyed only one message.

“Again.” I whispered

Our lips clashed and broke apart once again.

“Again.”

We kissed longer this time, pulling apart as we stared into each other’s eyes with crimson cheeks.

“Again.”


	12. a sinner's caress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHEAD !!!!!

It had been a long and debilitating day. I had taken the responsibility to make dinner for the remaining members that weren’t on a mission: Pain, Konan, Sasori, and I. Just before, Sasori and I had worked ourselves to the brink of exhaustion sparring each other. As usual, I had chosen to unwind with Sasori in the comfort of his room. The sound of clinking metal and the comforting scent of wood filled the room as I watched from his bed.

I laid back from my sitting position and extended my arms, “Don’t you ever get tired of working all day, love?”

“No. It’s comforting, in a way.”

I rose from the bed and made my way over to his desk. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I suggested that he take a break. Erasing the need for rest was impossible, even for a genius like Sasori, so sleep was a definite necessity. As I massaged his shoulder to coax him into getting some rest, I moved my hands farther up to the base of his neck. Being made of the same material, I had come to know the specific spots that often tensed with stress. Pressing my fingers into the stiff areas, I noticed Sasori’s soft but noticeable moans. Looking further down, I observed a small tent in his navy blue trousers. For reasons that he was too flustered to say, he had left our genitalia during our transition to wooden bodies. Feeling adventurous, I tantalized him with kisses along the areas on his neck.

“(Y/N)...” he groaned.

“Feeling distracted?” I tangled my fingers in his red hair, “Perhaps we should finish this in bed.” Taking his hand, I led him into bed.

Positioning myself in Sasori’s lap, I enveloped him into a demanding kiss. My hips lightly rocked against his erection as our tongues danced in the kiss. Moaning after a gentle bite to his lower lip, he snaked his hands down to my waist. He gripped my hips as I ground against his clothed cock. Finally, tired of the tease, he moved his hands back up and lifted my shirt off of me. Since we were already in the comfort of our own room, there was no need for him to take off a bra that was never on. Sasori gently sucked on my sensitive nipple as his hand fondled the other. I moaned as I ran my fingers through his soft, red hair.

“You drive me crazy, doll,” he whispered, roughly rotating us and throwing me on the bed. “You’re a masterpiece, (Y/N). I can’t wait to fuck your pretty little body.”

I poked at his chest, “Hurry up and get on with it then.”

He scoffed as his fingers trailed down from my breasts to my legs.

I grabbed his hands, “Take off your shirt.” I demanded

“This is the only time you get to tell me what to do, woman.” He left his position on top of me to sit at the edge of the bed, “On your knees.”

I did so accordingly, sliding down his trousers to reveal his throbbing erection.

“Since you can’t seem to watch your tongue with me,” he started, gripping my jaw as he slid his cock into my mouth, “you’ll learn to.”

I choked as his cock touched the back of my throat, already tasting the precum leaking from it. He held my head with both hands as he guided it up and down his length. I lapped my tongue around the head of his cock, taking in the flavor of the liquid leaking out from it. He moaned and picked me up by my shoulders, tossing me back onto the bed. Eyes clouded with hunger, he gracefully slipped off my pants and rubbed himself on my labia. My legs jumped with pleasure as it flicked my clitoris every so often.

My hands clenched the sheets below me as he entered. The room, drunk with lust, was filled with my whimpers as I held his chest to adjust to his size. His hips continued to roll closer to my hips until his journey ended as they finally connected. His pace accelerated until only the sound of slapping skin and sinful moans became too much for him to handle. Sasori placed his head in the crook of my neck, letting out tempestuous groans that signaled his coming release. A hand of his snaked down just below my abdomen to push a spot that had built up pleasure-bringing pressure from his thrusts. His hips stuttered against mine as I threw my head back, a wave of pleasure engulfing my entire body. Almost instantly, he gripped my wrists as he filled me with warmth. A haze lingered, leaving us with only fatigue and drowsiness. Sasori collapsed next to me and allowed me a spot to settle within. I placed my head in his chest as he placed gentle kisses to my forehead, an embrace of slumber enveloping us while we held each other close.


	13. separation

Sasori and I, four years into the Akatsuki, had been sent on a mission to retrieve a package containing confidential documents for a feudal lord based in the Land of Wind. We received orders to locate and eliminate a couple of bandits that managed to steal the scrolls. It was to be standard missionary business, or so we believed. Once we determined their location, we noticed that the bandits wore white cloaks displaying a kind of red marking. The sight of them had triggered a flashback to my parent's deaths. I hadn't remembered much at the time, but around the time of my leaving, I had noticed a group in similar white cloaks. 

They watched my every move, from sprinting out of my home to turning my back to the village. I felt their burning presence as Sasori joined me in setting my old village aflame. It was almost as if they had been a kind of guardian, yet I always felt a sense of unrest in them. I'm not sure if Sasori sensed their presence or not. I never inquired him about it. Perhaps that's the reason I pressured Sasori into joining the Akatsuki. I had no way to assess the group's abilities or even determine if they were enemies or not. Joining another group for security was a smart move. For all of 18 years until that moment, I had never made contact with them.

I held Sasori's arm, "Don't leave." I needed to stay as close to him as possible. In all honesty, I feared the group. I held no trust in my heart for those not close to me. He squeezed my hand in response.

Their presence alone had scrambled my focus enough to get myself separated from Sasori; I found myself alone in the forest just outside the border. 

"Sasori!" I crumbled in pain, holding my chest as my White Snake mark burned the skin around it. I screamed into the void of the forest, alone and afraid of being isolated from him. My vision turned white just after seeing one of the men clasping his hands together, his focus on me alone.

I awoke in a dark chamber wearing nothing but a white gown and a chain connecting my wrist to the wall beside me. I focused on the dimly illuminated areas of the cell, lighted by small candles placed upon a white pentagram below me.

A man appeared behind me, pressing a kunai to my neck, "Pray to your God that he holds nothing dear to him."

I looked up to him, his face towering above me, "I believe you are mistaken, sir." A flowy blue kimono, Benzai-tennyo's cloak, formed around my body. I had not summoned since fighting in the Third Great War. I chose not to summon entirely, as only a fraction of her power alone would destroy everything in sight, "For I am the God you speak of."

His eyes quivered in fear as I effortlessly freed myself from the shackles. I had but one mission in my mind: Find Sasori. My goal had completely distracted me from noticing that there was only one man in the building. Walls crumbled; tiles of the room collapsed as I used explosive techniques using the mandolin that appeared along with the cloak. I did not ponder on the whereabouts of the entire group. Thankfully, they did not interfere as I returned to normal. I wandered for what seemed like days on end for Sasori, desperately hoping that the group had not gotten to him. Hatred brew and hopes died off in the final moments of searching for him. I collapsed from exhaustion, fingers tangled in my hair, sitting and sobbing until my eyes could cry no longer.

Love had once again been brutally ripped from my life, just as the years had presented time and time again. There was no reason in going retreating to the hideout. Our deaths would have already been assumed; a new barrier put in place. A sense of estrangement washed over as I realized that I, for the third time, no longer belonged. All the power in the world could not replace my bond with Sasori, and for that reason, I no longer valued it.


	14. the land of tranquility

I had, once again, found myself in another predicament of finding another place to belong. Suna was out of the question; I was sure to be tried for my crimes there. The warmth of my tears comforted my shivering frame, cold from the unforgiving winter just outside. I rubbed my arms, desperately trying to replicate the warmth of Sasori's tender love.

My eyes wandered to the frosted window, watching as delicate snowflakes kissed the ground below. It reminded me of him. Deep down, Sasori was a broken man, a gentle soul lost to the barbarity of the shinobi system. Perhaps that is why I gradually lost my connection to Suna. Day by day, I watched the boy I loved spiral into hate for his own village. I thought back to Konan, a woman who had lost her only love to a blind trust for the government. I wondered if there existed such a village that held only pure intentions.

Part of me wanted to stay in the cabin, waiting for Sasori's return. Part of me also knew that the pain inside of him would not allow him to. Who knows what would happen if he found me dead? It would be better for him if he chose not to find out. I thought back on our happiest memories together, memories that we would no longer be able to create again:

"Agh!" I covered my face, numb from the icy temperature of the snow. "I'll get you, puppet man!" Balling up a handful of snow, I chucked it at Sasori's head.

Nagato had sent us on a winter mission in the Land of Fire, Konoha. After collecting the information we needed, Sasori and I had decided to stay a bit longer to enjoy the winter season. Usually, he would insist on proceeding back to the hideout to lock himself in his room, but I convinced him that winter in Konoha would be a new experience. We had never gotten snow back in Suna, so we spent hours upon hours playing in it like children.

"Hey, let's make a snowman!" I asked Sasori.

"A… Snowman?"

"We used to make them back when I lived in my old village. Let me show you." I guided his hands to a small ball of snow. "Make this into a bigger ball. It'll be the bottom of the snowman." Sasori rolled his eyes as he continued to ball up the snow. I finished the other two balls shortly after him and placed them atop the base.

"It's just three snowballs…" he trailed off.

"Well, he doesn't have a face yet." I dug in my pockets for something to serve as his eyes. Looking up, I watched as Sasori gently placed two buttons on the top of the snowman.

"They're for the clothes I make for my puppets. I'm taking them back after this."

I chuckled, taking a kunai from my pack and impaling the snowman's face. "He's got a sharp nose!" I giggled.

Grabbing my waist, Sasori drew me towards him, "What do you have against people with pointy noses?"

"Nothing, Pinocchio." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I leaned in for a soft kiss.

For a moment, it had seemed that Sasori had resolved his internal hate for the Leaf Village. The Hidden Leaf had become a place of true peace for us, away from the violence and stress inflicted by the Akatsuki.

That was it. I was to go to a place of true peace.


	15. rebirth

Dead leaves crunched beneath my feet as I made my way to the Leaf's entrance. I stopped for a second, taking in the view of the green gates towering over me., my nails digging into the bag carrying my Akatsuki robe. To be part of an independent organization was dangerous enough, but being part of a rogue organization would have certainly denied me access to the Leaf, possibly even throwing me in prison.

I resorted back to the string of lies that landed me in Suna. I was always proficient in manipulation, good at getting people to pity me. It was as if I put my life on pause, creating a new version of myself all over again. I was young, around 18 years old, at the time of arriving at the village. A relic of the war, I was. A young woman left to wander after the destruction of her village many years before. To them, I was a new prospect, a hope of potential. The sparkle of the guards' eyes proved just. 

I knew the drill, submitting to the orders of simple guards as they led me to an empty apartment. While I waited for the Hokage's call, I sat on the ground and started arranging my wardrobe. A wave of coldness ran through my body as I felt the silk of the Akatsuki robe run beneath my fingers. I slipped my hand through the inner pocket near the left breast. A picture of Sasori and I emerged. There, I clung to his left bicep with a beaming smile. A light coat of snow dusted his red hair. It was a picture from our first time in the Leaf village.

My body ran cold. I wondered if Sasori would've come looking for me in the Leaf. In truth, I knew he wouldn't. His pride was too great, his ego too unbearable for his own sake.

I slipped the photo into the nightstand beside my bed. A knock came from the door, a voice calling me to the Hokage's office followed.

An old man sat behind the rounded desk, much different from the blond one just a few months prior. I looked to my left, to the photos of the previous Hokage. A still image of the blond man stared back at me. I pondered on his fate. Was it enough to die for your village? Did your people honestly hold you in high regard? The level of loyalty and trust that resided in the Hidden Leaf was quite unknown to me.

"A woman of great power, you are. (Y/n), I presume?" the man asked.

"Correct, Lord Third."

"Your reputation precedes you; I've heard dangerous things about you during the war.", he laughed.

I chucked with a strain to my voice.

"I have to ask, why is there no documentation for a village anywhere?"

Again, I recited the web of lies that I had created just before entering the village. If it was anyone's sympathy I needed, it was most definitely the Hokage's. I headed back to my apartment after our brief meeting. A flak jacket and a black Hidden Leaf headband rested in my arms.

"May I walk with you?" a woman spoke.

I looked over to my right, "Of course." She was alluring, captivating. Long untamed hair cradled her shoulders, red lips complimenting her eyes of the same color.

"My name is Kurenai. There aren't many women in the jonin ranks, so I thought we should stick together." She looked at me with a welcoming smile.

I hadn't had another woman close in friendship since Konan. It wouldn't hurt to make connections in the Leaf. I gave her a reassuring smile and went about my newly-created self.


	16. saudade

Kurenai and I walked along a snowy bridge, "You and Asuma seem pretty close these days, Kurenai." 

"It's nothing!" Kurenai sputtered. A pink shade dusted her cheeks, "Besides, he shares no affection towards me."

I cackled, "Are you serious? He's absolutely infatuated with you."

"And how would you know?" she frowned with a slight curve to her lips.

My eyes narrowed to an empty field just in front of us, "I once had a love, long before I met you." Our feet crunched the snow with each step, "But that's not important. Tell me about Asuma."

We sat on a wooden bench, cold from the freezing weather bestowed upon Konoha. "I've known him for as long as I can remember. We were best friends throughout our academy days." she giggled and turned towards me. "How long did you know your's for?"

I smiled, despite the pang in my heart. "Since I was a child. He helped me seek refuge after my village fell to destruction."

"I've always felt safe with Asuma. He comforted me through the nine-tails' attack, the war, so many things."

"Nine-tails' attack?" I questioned.

"Just after the Hokage's wife, Kushina, gave birth, her tailed beast went on a rampage throughout the village," Kurenai spoke with a soft tone to her voice. "The child survived, at the cost of his parents. We lost both the Hokage and his wife that day."

"I'm sorry."

"All is well." she looked back at me with a reassuring expression.

"I see the way Asuma looks at you." I turned back to the empty field. "It reminds me of my love and I."

"Really?"

"We sat in this very spot many months ago, freezing weather and all."

"On a mission?" Kurenai asked.

"No," I lied, "we had been traveling around, looking for a suitable village to settle down in." I exhaled, my breath condensing in the frigid air. "I lost hi-"

"Speak of the devil," she mumbled. Asuma made his way towards us from the bridge we had crossed just moments before. "I'll catch up with you later, (Y/n)."

I watched as she rushed to her lover. "Got it."

In truth, I envied them. Watching Kurenai and Asuma had only highlighted my failure in love. I saw the 'what-would-have-been's' in their love for each other, the love I so cautiously nurtured and protected with everything I had. It was the love I had lost despite it all. And so, I buried my love for Sasori deep in my heart for years to come. I watched love grow and fall in the village, only to be reminded of my own each and every time. So I sought for power, the power to never again lose the love for those that became precious to me. I wanted power to protect.

Each night, I laid in bed, staring at the blank ceiling above and reflected on my regrets. The 'if-only's' gradually evolved into a deep hatred for myself. And as shattered shards of mirrors kissed the ground below, I went to work. I beat and built myself up every morning before reporting to duty. Years went on with the same routine. My refusal to mentor genin in the future would only come from the same distrust in myself. I had nowhere but the Leaf, so the Leaf I stayed.


	17. estrangement

It was as if everything stopped, everything a statue surrounding me. Time had stopped for a moment as they desperately tried to process their thoughts. Was it fear or shock? It didn't matter. The weight of emotion no longer held significance in the world of shinobi; all that mattered was the task at hand. 'But, what was the task?' you may question me.

To protect, or to betray? I pondered on it for the still moment, seconds of silence just after the first explosion. I concluded that my decision would depend on the identity of the assailant. In my past, I tended to keep those with potential close to me. Prospects of usefulness always lingered in my mind. And with that in mind, the sliver of hope that resided in my heart grew with every passing second. The small cake shop I remained in as the first blast took place shook with heavy tremors. Villagers fled for their lives as I reflected on the assault. Was it Konan? Pain? I would find out soon, anyway.

The door squeaked as I forced it open. A second blast pierced my ears, quickly followed by the shrieks of civilians and shinobi alike. I turned towards the village gates, immediately gazing upon the gigantic snakes towering over them. No, it was not a prospect, but an enemy instead. It was Orochimaru, the same man that I so distanced myself from. But that day, I did not know his goal. I did not know his reasoning, and I did not know his motives for attacking the village. All I knew was that he was always an enemy of mine; therefore, I was to protect what was more precious to me. I ran to the smoke emerging from the site of the Chunin exams. 

His presence reminded me of my days in the Akatsuki. I had lost track of time since my arrival to Konoha. It had been almost eleven years. The Akatsuki had probably ceased to exist now, I thought. With no desire to become Hokage, I had done enough work to place myself at the top of the Leaf's shinobi. After years of trying to gain information about the group, I eventually gave up on it.

It seemed that the attacks would continue, judging by a new infiltration. News of the fourth Kazegage's death had arrived along with an unknown pair of intruders in Konoha. I braced myself for yet again another battle. It seemed the days of conflict would never end. I lost hope for the sense of belonging, that was until I saw him.

It seemed that the barriers surrounding my hope for the Akatsuki crumbled at an instant. It shined, proud and bold in front of my enemies, Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki. Again, life presented me with the ever-asking question: Protect or betray? But, what would I be betraying? I chose neither. I needed to deceive the Leaf. It wouldn't have been the first time, I thought, picturing my Akatsuki collecting dust in my wardrobe. Inside, I thanked myself for my previous training with Itachi. I desperately hoped that he would remember the tactics. I had no choice but to fight to maintain the illusion of loyalty.

I ran towards Itachi as he pointed his kunai towards Kurenai. Past friendships held no substance in a matter of conflict. Opening myself up for attack, I blocked Itachi's blade with my own. My lips hardly moved, but he knew exactly what I wanted. And with a quick swipe, a gash formed along my jawline. A product of Sasori's advanced puppetry, my throat stained with blood as the artificial flesh broke.

"Trust me, Itachi." I croaked. Kisame looked away.

"Yes, I understand," Itachi whispered.

He always did.


	18. inescapable

I walked up to the woman kneeling at a gravestone. She mouthed words I could not comprehend, touching the stone with such tenderness as if it was skin itself.

"I've lost a love, too," I whispered.

She ran her fingers over the letters. 'Dan Katō' they inscribed. Hokage or not, one could not ignore their feelings towards loss. 

"Don't you wish the fighting would just end?" she asked.

I looked up to the sky, "Easier said than done. Some crave conflict." It was the only thing keeping him sane and the one thing that drove him to insanity. Battles were the thing that brought us together and tore us apart. Conflict made the world go-'round, yet, I yearned for a world of peace. "Some say conflict is only human nature."

I had come to grow close to Tsunade over her time as Hokage. We both had lost love due to war and battle. We both dreamt of peace.

"Was he a good man?" She asked.

I contemplated the question. What defines a good man? Is it his morals? His actions? "To me, he was." I sat on a stone bench, "That was all that mattered."

"I see."

"Part of me believes he's still out there somewhere," I said. "No, thinks."

"And maybe he is." She clasped my hands, "You'll never know for sure unless you see for yourself."

"It's a fool's game, Lady Fifth." I looked up, "It's better to forget and move on."

"Don't you want to know?"

"I don't know." I found myself in the same predicament as he. I didn't want to know the status of him or why he never came looking for me. It hurt to think about, so I stopped thinking about it. But, it only made me wonder more. But, seeing Itachi after years of separation had erased years of forcing myself to forget about Sasori. I couldn't help but wonder if he was alive or not.

"Hey," she turned to me, "wanna go grab a drink?"

The bar reeked of alcohol and the stench of quickly-forgotten sins. I didn't interest myself in drinking my problems away, unlike Tsunade. She leaned against me, ranting on about something my mind wouldn't allow me to focus enough to listen.

"Hey, beautiful," I heard from behind me. Slurred words and alcohol breath gave me all I needed to know. Did they know who they were talking to? Or who I was sitting with? Alcohol was a dangerous beverage.

"Leave us alone, sir," I told the drunkard. All I wanted was to shoo him away before things got out of hand. Tsunade was far too wasted to comprehend what was happening; I needed to get her home.

"And who do you think you are?" Tsunade mumbled with half-lidded eyes, a faint shade of red dusting her cheeks.

"I don't know, but all I know is that I'm getting lucky tonight." He grabbed my arm with a painful grip. Out of instinct, my hand darted to my pocket.

"Careful, now." I pointed my kunai at him, "If your tongue becomes loose around me," the point pinched his throat, "so will my blade."

His hand trembled as it gripped my arm; his brows furrowed enough to construct a feasible thought. He released my arm with a push and walked away.

"Let's get you home." I turned to Tsunade.


	19. desire over martyrdom

It seemed like the months flew by after Naruto's departure. Genin resumed their training for the upcoming Chunin exams, as usual, and I continued with what I concluded as 'normal' for my life until Naruto's return. I seemed to distract myself with missions and training, often drowning myself in it and succumbing to exhaustion day after day. And for a while, it worked. I no longer dreamt of him at night, and he no longer clouded my thoughts during what little free time I had. That was; until Tsunade proposed a new mission to me. 

At first glance, I had assumed it would be a routine tracking mission as always. Disturbances spotted the outskirts of Suna.  _ I should have known _ . Tsunade speculated suspicious activity but wasn't sure, so I was to spy for a few weeks. All was well; I accepted the mission and was about to head out after the briefing.

"...And so, I can only permit you to scout the area for identities." She rested her head on her palm. "For all we know, this could be the _ Akatsuki _ ."

That was it. That was the decades-long dreaded word;  _ the Akatsuki _ . 

I closed my eyes, "Lady Fifth, I respectfully decline this mission." No, there was no way I was about to erase years of progress in a matter of seconds. Thoughts ran through my mind at light's speed. What if I encountered new members? Oh, the idea of seeing Sasori again made my knees weak to the bone.  _ Damn you. Damn you, damn you, damn you, Sasori.  _

The Hokage leered over at me, "Excuse me, (Y/n)?"

I placed my hands on the desk and looked straight into her eyes, "Lady Fifth, I assure you that I cannot complete this mission the way you want it." Inside, I was pleading, almost begging Tsunade not to send me on that mission. I wondered if she knew the reason why I tried to decline to that extent. Perhaps that was her motive for sending me on the mission, to come to terms with the reality I had been running away from. But did I truly want that reality? Would I even accept it? No, it did not matter. 

"Tell me, (Y/n)," the woman stood. "Do you honestly care for this village's safety or not?!" She raised her voice.

I frowned.  _ Right in the center of the wound, you bitch. _ Did she know? "Of course I do, Lady Tsunade."

"Then, you are to go on this mission, (Y/n). That is an order."

"Yes, ma'am." I turned my back to leave the room. I took two steps before I stopped at the sound of her voice.  _ Damn that woman, does she ever leave things be? _

"The name of these suspects are Deidara, Iwagakure's rogue shinobi, and  _ Sasori of the Red Sand _ ."

I froze at the name. "I understand," I muttered, making my way out the door with tears I didn't know formed during the time debating over my capability. 

Now, I had no other choice. Tsunade wouldn't have mentioned his name if he weren't confirmed dead almost decades ago. I wondered if he was happier without me, if he truly came to enjoy the life after my disappearance. I thought about the hate he may have harbored for me. I considered how he would react if we encountered each other again. Would he kill me? Better yet, would I let him? I refused to fall to anybody's hand but his. I would not die a martyr for the 'nation' I so claimed to love. No, I would die a lover to the soul that brought me peace, even after death. 

And so, I opened the door to my apartment, immediately grasping the cold metal of my wooden wardrobe. Digging behind piles of sleepwear, I gently pulled out a red and black silk robe. I ran my hands over the fine fabric, taking in the memories I buried deeper with each year. It rested deep in my traveling bag, along with other necessities. Of course, I didn't need ANBU coming after in suspicion of me going rogue. No, not just yet. 

"I've left early. Do not worry about me. I'll be back," the note inscribed. 


End file.
